


Dreamer

by FandomAmbassador



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Figuring Things Out, Fluff, Getting Together, Jensen is philosophical when he's drunk, Kisses, Light Angst, M/M, Parties, Slightly Drunk Jensen, and uses too many metaphors, slight existential crisis, sneaksen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomAmbassador/pseuds/FandomAmbassador
Summary: Jensen has a tendency to get a bit metaphorical when he's drunk, but the message is clear enough. He's not going to stand around wishing his love was requited. Luckily for him, Sneaky believes in wishing upon shooting stars. Light angst and philosophy from Jensen, plus a cute, fluffy ending.





	Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

> hey whats up i fucking love nicolaj jensen

Jensen wasn’t a dreamer. He didn’t believe in wishing upon stars or dandelions. He didn’t believe in magic or fairies or miracles. Jensen wasn’t going to sit around waiting for dreams to come true because life didn’t work that way.

Jensen was a realist.

No need to believe in something that was going to let you down.

So it wasn’t dreaming when he watched the way Sneaky’s eyes lit up as he laughed or the way his ridiculous hair fell over his eyes, right? It wasn’t dreaming as he followed the line of Sneaky’s neck to the collarbone that peeked out from his jersey.

He told that to himself, sang it like a mantra. Everything was oddly warm, contrasted sharply with the coldness of the glass pressed against his fingers. There was something distant to the world around him and Jensen wondered how many times the glass had been refilled with sickly-sweet liquid, colored to something no doubt obnoxious and unappealing.

Jensen’s world blurred in front of his eyes, everything moving in slow motion. He had fallen so deep into his mind, reality cracked like stained glass around him. It was like he was no longer in control of his body, just standing in stasis, staring and wishing he could stop.

But Jensen didn’t believe in wishes, right?

What was reality anymore? Why, out of all the places in the world and all the people, was it him standing here?

Jensen wasn’t sure anymore. Vaguely, the sober part of his brain told him that this was a grand existential crisis indeed. 

But Jensen ignored that. He felt like he was observing everything from out of his body, a ghost in the rafters, watching and wishing he was human again.

Jensen’s body was in slow-motion, but his mind was racing. Flashing lights and colors burned in his eyes and disembodied laughter rang in his ears.

Suddenly, everything hurt too much.

Strangers were closed in around him, suffocating him. All he heard was his heart pounding, with muffled music and loud talking in the background.

He didn’t realize he was clenching his fist until there was a dull crashing sound that vaguely registered over the white noise in his head.The tinkling of glass rang brightly in his ears. Little shards fell like glittering slivers of light. 

But it didn’t matter. He was already pushing through the crowd. No one noticed him. He wasn’t even here, not really.

Jensen stumbled to a pair of glass doors, not even sure where they led to. Did it even matter?

Not really. Jensen threw open the doors and was hit by a wave of icy wind and suddenly he was shocked back into focus.

His mind reeling, Jensen found himself on the porch, the night sky dark above him. Breathing heavily, Jensen leaned against the railing, trying to get a hold of himself.

Right. He was at the gaming house.

There was a party.

He was definitely a little drunk.

Jensen’s head hurt too much to think past that. It was cold, so so cold. It was so cold that his hands and ears hurt, the wind biting at whatever skin was exposed. His cheeks and forehead felt hot, but his hands were nearly numb.

But the cold was good. It helped him think, keep him in reality. So unlike the foggy, dreamlike warmth of the house where he had lost himself.

Could Jensen even go back in there?

He was almost scared to return that faraway place where his mind was filled with fireworks and unnatural giddiness that just barely covered the pangs in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back, where he would be faced with messy, dirty-blond hair and blue eyes behind glasses. An insufferable grin and snickering laughter. Small habits that Jensen couldn’t help but notice, like fixing his hair when it wasn’t messed up, or pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Jensen shook his head, trying to push the thoughts backwards, where he was more drunk and it didn’t hurt as much.

Too fast. Slow it down.

Jensen looked up at the only constant thing in this ever-changing universe. The stars winked at him, hiding secrets they could never tell.

What was the point of having a secret if it stayed hidden forever? What was your purpose to have the secret in the first place if no one could ever find it?

Jensen felt a surge of anger at the stars for being so selfish and greedy. They hoarded all their secrets like silver dragons in the sky, closing their talons around precious treasures.

But then again, that was terribly hypocritical of him, wasn’t it?

The mood smiled sadly at him, as if knowing his predicament.

“Tell me your secrets. What are you hiding?” Jensen whispered, because of course he didn’t believe in wishes and magic, but he would talk to the moon and stars after only one drink.Was it one drink? Maybe he had an excuse but he couldn’t remember that either.

But the moon or the stars didn’t answer, just kept shining the sky. Pretty, but useless.

Jensen wanted to just yell at them, let all of his frustration out on the most untouchable things. What would people think if they saw him shouting at the sky, his breath fogging in the cold like a dragon breathing fire?

Jensen had enough wits about him to realize that was not the best idea.

He sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the sheer silence in the night.

“Jensen?”

There was a flicker of annoyance in Jensen’s mind. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did it have to be him?

Jensen turned, blinking lazily at Sneaky, who was closing the patio doors behind him.

“It’s too cold to be outside without a jacket…” His teammate held out a lump of black fabric towards him, probably the aforementioned jacket.

“It’s not bad,” Jensen commented with a shrug, turning back to stare resolutely at the stars.

But he felt a hand, burning with warmth in comparison, touch the back of his neck. Jensen jumped, surprised at the touch.

“You’re freezing, you dumbass,” Sneaky smirked. He draped the jacket around Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen hated the way his heart was instantly fluttering, the way his chest warmed from more or less the gesture than the jacket.

Reluctantly, Jensen pulled the jacket tightly around him, drinking in the warmth. He noticed it was too big and smelled like that one unmistakable cologne Sneaky used. Slightly spicy and comforting, with no describable scent other than bringing memories of anything warm or nostalgic. Hot coffee in the morning, sleeves that were too long for your arms, laughter that hurt your stomach, the giddy feeling of staying up too late with someone else.

This was Sneaky’s jacket.

“This is your jacket,” Jensen said numbly.

“Yep,” Sneaky confirmed, coming to stand beside Jensen on the porch.

Jensen felt like there was a star in the middle of his chest, burning brightly.

He didn’t know if he could take it much longer–the star burning–and he wondered if it would explode in a supernova, sending shards of light everywhere.

Was that how stars gave up their secrets? When they finally couldn’t take anymore, and they burst, giving up everything they had?

Jensen pressed his fist against his stomach, trying to push back the knot of feelings that were threatening to explode.

He glanced over to Sneaky and was surprised to see him already looking back. Sneaky grinned, unabashed to be caught staring.

“What?” Jensen said, self-conscious under the probing gaze.

“Your cheeks and ears are all red from the cold….” Sneaky answered. There was something in his eyes that made the star inside of Jensen glow brightly.

“Why did you come out here?” Jensen said, cutting to the point, tired of waiting and wondering.

“Do I need to have a reason?” Sneaky grinned cheekily.

When did he get so close? Jensen could see how the moonlight illuminated the right side of his face, his abomination of a haircut brushing softly over his eyes.

“Fine, bitch. Don’t tell me,” Jensen snarked jokingly, although he was half-annoyed by Sneaky’s comment.

Sneaky gave his breathy snort of laughter. “Reported for toxicity! I’m just kidding. I came out to see you.”

Jensen hated the way his chest leaped at those words. He hated the happiness–the warmth that spread through him.

“Jensen! Look! A shooting star!” Sneaky interrupted his thoughts, pointing frantically at the sky. Jensen glanced up to see a silver streak marring the perfect dots of the stars.

“Quick, make a wish!” Sneaky said, eyes wide with excitement.

“I don’t believe in wishes…” Jensen murmured, watching as the shooting star trailed off, here one second, gone the other.

“Well, I do! Do you want to know what I wished for?” Sneaky looked like a little kid on Christmas day–eyes bright and cheeks round from smiling.

“Don’t they say if you tell what you wished for, then it doesn’t come true?”

“Maybe. But I believe in miracles,”

Jensen wondered if he could count Sneaky’s eyelashes from here. Were they supposed to be standing this close? Was this how Sneaky stood next to everyone?

Jensen nearly jumped in shock when Sneaky put a hand on his cheek. How did he stay so warm? He could feel every inch of Sneaky’s palm and fingers, heat seeping into his face.

“You’re so cold…”

“A-aren’t you going to tell me what you wished for?” Jensen stammered. This definitely was not how friends stood next to each other.

“Oh yeah,” Sneaky grinned, his gaze soft. “This is what I wished for.”

And Jensen didn’t have any time to think before Sneaky was leaning in, his hand moving to cup Jensen’s jaw, pulling him closer.

It was stained glass and broken cups and fireworks all over again as the star in Jensen’s chest finally exploded, the supernova breaking loose.

Sneaky was kissing him and there were shards of light burning against Jensen’s eyelids.

If Jensen said the kiss was perfect, he would be lying. It was messy and uncoordinated, with probably too much teeth, but it didn’t matter.

How could it matter?

Everything was bright and shining and nothing mattered but the space between them, their own personal bubble hidden from the world like a precious gem in the middle of a cold, grey mountain.

Sneaky’s hair was just as soft as it looked, his lips even softer. He held Jensen like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe and for once, Jensen knew that everything was going to be okay.

That the stars may hide secrets, but the shooting stars give secrets to those would are willing to believe in them.

And maybe–just maybe–Jensen could believe in miracles.  

**Author's Note:**

> LETS GO C9 I'm so proud of them, they're doing so good!! Hope u enjoyed this, your comments and kudos make my day!  
> Tumblr: https://thefandomambassador.tumblr.com/


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